


Escape from Mirkwood

by swagginshield (demonicdestiel)



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: (kind of), First Kiss, Fluff, Friendship/Love, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Non-Graphic Violence, Romantic Friendship, Slow Burn, Surprise Kissing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-30
Updated: 2015-10-30
Packaged: 2018-04-28 21:16:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5106038
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/demonicdestiel/pseuds/swagginshield
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dedicated to anyone who's read The Hobbit and thought, "Wow, that scene where Thorin and Co. are held captive by the elves threw away a golden opportunity." Because I know I did.</p><p>(Based heavily on the scene from The Hobbit book, but still can still be read as if it's in the Peter Jackson movieverse)</p><p>Slightly Canon-Divergent in terms of timelines</p>
            </blockquote>





	Escape from Mirkwood

**Author's Note:**

> Writing this was challenging for all the wrong reasons... Tolkien never actually names the king of the Mirkwood elves (even though, as we know from other Tolkien books, and the Peter Jackson movie series, that his name is Thranduil - father of Legolas) and as I wanted to stay as close as possible to the source material, so I did not call him Thranduil once, as hard as it was for me. Another thing is the fact that there is little to no description of the "dungeon" itself, so be prepared for a little inspiration from the movies, and quite a lot of improvisation.
> 
> Enjoy the fic!

As soon as Bilbo overheard that Thorin was being held captive in a cell separate from the other dwarves, he ran as fast as his tiny hobbit legs could carry him. He dodged elves left and right, ducked under their slim figures, and in his haste, even after weeks of careful sneaking around, avoiding any suspicion by the elves, accidentally bumped into several of them on his way to the darkest, most dreary place in the whole of the elvenking's lair.

At last, there he was, sitting in the furthest corner of his cell, appearing to be deep in thought.

"Thorin!" Bilbo couldn't help but cry out when he saw, at last, that his friend was safe. Thorin's eyes snapped up at once, relieved but also carrying a hint of wariness.

The corners of his bearded mouth turned up in a smile. "Bilbo Baggins? Is that you?" He stood with a groan and walked to the iron gate separating him and his cell from the rest of the elvish caves. "Yes, yes, it's me," said Bilbo, removing the ring and rushing to meet him. He didn't want to tell Thorin about the ring just yet.

Thorin laughed – something he had begun to think he would never have the chance to do again – and grasped Bilbo's shoulder through the bars. "I am glad to see you are alright, Mister Baggins; tell me, how are the others? Are they captured too?"

Bilbo nodded sombrely. "Unfortunately, yes. I'm sorry, Thorin, I have been trying to free them for weeks now. If I had known sooner that you were here, I would have let you know. I'm just glad you're alive."

"Why? What happened in the forest after I was captured?" Thorin asked, his brow now creased in worry.

Bilbo wished the dwarf would smile again; it was a rare sight to see after all. "Spiders; a whole nest of them. Probably a couple hundred out there, we didn't stay long enough to find out. Huge, fat spiders, they were; nearly sucked the life out of the lot of us. Lucky I woke up when I did, else I and the rest of the company would still be hanging by our feet in the middle of the forest." He didn't praise himself often, and so Bilbo felt his cheeks heat up when he spoke the last part to Thorin. He didn't mean to brag – it was true, after all – nonetheless, it still made him feel mildly embarrassed to speak so plainly.

To his surprise. Thorin bowed deeply, his beard nearly sweeping the floor. "You have my gratitude once again, my friend. Now tell me, have you by any chance, thought of an escape plan for us?" Bilbo, still reeling from the heir of the dwarvish throne bowing for him, could only shake his head and managed to make a small squeak in response.

Thorin chuckled, though he was inwardly disappointed, and his hope had once again faded. He had hoped to see his company again, to make sure for himself that they were all in good health. To his surprise, however, he no longer felt upset at the idea of having to spend more time imprisoned in his cell.

The two spent quite a while sitting quietly and discussing things that Bilbo had previously observed in his time sneaking about the wood elves' kingdom. After a time, an elf came to bring Thorin his meagre supper (which was significantly less than that of the others'), and was accompanied by the elf king himself, likely come to interrogate their prisoner once again. With hushed, hurried goodbyes, Bilbo slipped past the elves and through the tunnels to find the other members of their company. 

Every day from their first meeting onwards, Bilbo made sure to visit Thorin in his cell, often bringing him any extra food that he could get his hands on, and updating him on anything that might have happened – no matter how small or seemingly insignificant it may be – that day. They soon developed a routine where Bilbo would more or less come at the same time every day, and both Bilbo and Thorin looked forward to it, even if the circumstances of their meetings were not desirable.

One afternoon, however, the elven king, had lost his temper with Thorin during his interrogation, and injured him badly, out of anger. The king had noticed over time, that despite his pathetic meals of bread and water, he was not growing thin, as the other dwarves had started to. When he looked into this, of course, he had begun to suspect that Thorin had struck a deal with one of the elves to bring him more food in exchange for something. When he refused to speak, the king had kicked him until he was a bloody mess on the rocky floor of his cell, and three guards had to come and restrain their monarch. With a glare and an uncharacteristically frustrated snarl, he had said, "You don't know what you've gotten yourself into, dwarf. There will be no food for you, try making deals with the air! You can succumb to death by starvation for all I care! You're no use to me if you won't talk." And with a swish of his cape, and a demand to the guard to not let anyone in to see Thorin, he was gone.

Bilbo rushed to the gate of Thorin's cell and ripped off the ring unceremoniously. "Thorin! He whispered, panic seeping into his voice. "Thorin, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean for this to happen!" Bilbo searched frantically for a way to open the cell door, but found none. He slammed his fist angrily on the gate, making a loud rattling noise. He could hear Thorin's laboured breathing even from such a distance, and his heart leapt fearfully. He needed to get to him _now_.

An idea came to mind, but Bilbo was reluctant to leave Thorin in such a state. He waited for what seemed like hours for the dwarf to move, to respond to his cries, and when he did not, Bilbo made up his mind, put the ring back on, and ran to the guardroom.

Luckily for him, he caught the keymaster carrying a huge barrel of wine. While he had both arms busy carrying the barrel, Bilbo snuck around to his side and deftly snatched the ring of keys from him. Ducking beneath a table, the hobbit quickly removed the largest key from the ring and hooked the rest of them back onto the guard's belt.

Though he was reluctant to admit it, his actions leading to this moment – sneaking Thorin extra food – even though they may have gotten Thorin beaten badly, had caused just the set up the dwarves needed to make an escape possible. He ran back to Thorin's cell, ironically feeling much more hopeful than he had in weeks.

While Bilbo had made his expertly executed theft of the key to Thorin's cell, the dwarf heir had finally gathered enough strength to stand up, for he was a hardy little fellow, and he tried to let nothing faze him; even if he was as bloody and bruised as he was now. He was lucky that the elf king had been restrained, else he feared that his injuries might be much worse than getting the wind knocked out of him. Upon his waking, Thorin was greeted with the sight of a frantic Bilbo fumbling with the lock on his door, and making a dreadful racket doing so. "Master Baggins...!" He whispered, wiping blood from his mouth.

"Thank the gods, you're alive... I've got the key to your cell; snatched it off the guard while he was busy..." He bit his lip while he worked to fit the key into the lock. The lock was quite high for him, as short as hobbits were, the lock, which was just above arms reach, even with Bilbo on his toes was only about chest height for an elf.

Thorin reached his hand through the gate and cupped the side of Bilbo's admittedly dirty face. The hobbit stopped and for the first time, saw how badly Thorin had fared in all the time spent in the wood elves' domain. Blood ran from his nose, which looked as if it had been broken, his beard was matted, and he no longer carried a regal air, as he usually did. It was disheartening to see him in such a state.

"Bilbo," Thorin whispered, his voice hoarse, "this is a reckless plan, even for you; where will I go when you get me out of here? What of the other dwarves imprisoned here with me?" He groaned and clutched his head, his hand falling from its place on Bilbo's cheek; losing the warmth it had given off sparked something in the halfling.

He let the lock fall from his grasp, key clanking to the floor, and threw himself into the gate. He reached his arms as far as they would go inside the cell, grabbed hold of Thorin, and pulled him into a rough embrace. The cold metal was hard and intrusive, and Bilbo now wished that he had spoken up about not going off of the forest path. But he had been hungry and desperate, and yearned for a feast as decadent and filling as Bombur had described.

Bilbo rested his forehead against Thorin's, and tears spilled onto his cheeks, cutting paths through the dirt and grime that had accumulated there over the past few months. "I should be the one in that cell... This is my fault," whispered Bilbo, "I should never have come... You would be rich and comfortable in the land of your father, if I had just... Had just..." The rest of his words were lost as he began to sob even harder.

Rough fingers wiped his tears away and opened his swollen eyes to see Thorin smiling at him. "We would have been dead for sure by this point if you had not accompanied us this far, Master Baggins."

And with that, Bilbo could no longer help himself. He closed his eyes and kissed the dwarf. Infused with the emotions and experiences he had shared with him over the course of their unexpected journey, he felt warm, and complete. He tasted blood, and pulled away, suddenly remembering Thorin's condition.

Thorin looked dazed, and nearly fell over backwards with the sudden loss of support from Bilbo. He cleared his throat, and tried to speak, yet he could find no words appropriate to the situation at hand.

Seeing his confusion, Bilbo squeaked an apology, and covered his face in embarrassment. He hadn't meant to do any of that, it was as if his body had acted of its own free will. And he immediately regretted it.

He hurriedly picked up the key and began working on the lock again. With all of his attention now focused on the task at hand, he got it open in less than a minute. "I hurt you again, didn't I...?" Bilbo asks, so quietly it was barely audible. He stood looking down at the key in his hands. The gate creaked open, and Thorin walked out, slowly and deliberately; carefully calculating each step. "I'm sorry, I don't know why... Why I did that..."

Gripping Bilbo's shoulder tightly, Thorin whispered, "I'm no worse off than I was before. I only have you to thank, Bilbo, and you have nothing to be sorry about." He bowed again, and on his way up, caught Bilbo's face in his hands, placing another quick kiss upon his brow. "I am glad that Gandalf chose you to be our burglar."

Bilbo puffed up a little at the sincerity of Thorin's compliment. "Of course, I-I'm the best damned burglar Middle-Earth has seen in centuries!" He blushed deeply at Thorin's hearty laughter that followed this proclamation – or so he told himself that was the reason – and asked, "What's so funny about that? It's... Well you said it yourself earlier; you wouldn't have made it far without me! You'd be dead on the side of the road!" Despite his comment, he knew it wasn't all due to him (it was mainly Gandalf that had helped them thus far), but Thorin let him have it anyways.

"Well, I think it's about time we planned our escape from these elven tunnels, is it not?" Thorin asked, still grinning. He knew it would still be some time before they were able to find an unguarded passage of some sort, but as Bilbo knew just as well as he did, it would raise the morale of their whole company if there was talk of an escape plan. With Bilbo and his magic ring – which he had revealed to Thorin not long before this very moment – escape was, at the very least, probable.

Dwarf and hobbit spent a great deal of time in quiet discussion, fear of discovery on Bilbo's part no longer creating an uncomfortable rift between them. The elves would not be back to give Thorin his meals, for the king of the elves stayed true to even his most brutal promises. Thorin had the idea of using the magic ring to sneak the dwarves out one by one; but as Bilbo had quickly pointed out, that would require too much time, and as the other dwarves in their company were being watched, the elves would soon realise that one by one, they were disappearing from their cells, and send a search party after them.

Bilbo thought of creating a distraction, using the ring, to give the dwarves enough time to escape, but they agreed that there were too many elves to risk it, and that even if they got as far as the gates, they would have to fight off a dozen elven guards unarmed. And besides that, no elf was easily tricked.

With a heavy – and still rather fluttery – heart, Bilbo left Thorin's company to go scavenge for food. He had decided to tell the other dwarves of their leader's situation, and of their possible window of escape on the way there; only the elven king himself stood in the midst of the tunnel entrance, speaking to yet another of the guards when he arrived. He didn't want to chance being found out, especially when they were so close to escape, and so instead decided to first make his way down the long, winding tunnels until he came to a great store room. He had never been in this part of the tunnels before, and it's a good thing he had chanced upon this very room, because (as we all know), hobbits have a great deal of luck, and this was a lucky place to be indeed.

Bilbo waited for the elves to finish with their meals, and as he did so, crouched behind wine barrels in the corner, he overheard them talking about just the escape route that the dwarves needed. A sort of trap door that emptied into the river below, used for transporting empty barrels – of which, there were quite a few of, at the moment – down the river. They had said that tomorrow at midday was when they would release the barrels, and Bilbo began to hatch a plan. In his haste to tell Thorin the news, he almost forgot to take the food scraps left by the elves.

Luckily, the elvenking had gone back to his chambers by the time Bilbo returned to the twelve dwarves' row of cells. "Thorin is free," he whispered to Dori, who could hardly contain himself when he heard the good news, "and we're working on an escape plan right now." This news he repeated to the other 11 dwarves, and nearly had a heart attack when he got all the way down to Bombur, who yelled, "Why am I always the last to know!?"

Bilbo laughed gleefully as he made his way back to Thorin's solitary cell once more, and even after stubbing his toes a grand total of _four times_ in his haste to get to Thorin as fast as possible, he still felt positively giddy. Thorin was sitting on the ground near the back of his cell with the gate closed – which, as they had agreed, was a good precaution in case someone discovered that he was no longer a prisoner – waiting patiently for Bilbo's return. He was apprehensive at first when he heard footsteps from the mouth of the tunnel, but it soon gave way to a relieved grin. “You sure look happy,” said Thorin, “have you got good news for me then? Or better, perhaps you’ve found us some food?”

“Yes to both!” exclaimed Bilbo, who, in his excitement, forgot that he was supposed to keep quiet for fear that he and Thorin might be caught. He handed Thorin the food he’d gathered and opened the gate. “I think I’ve found a safe path out of this dreadful place! The elves, I overheard them talking, and one said that they would be releasing a whole lot of empty wine barrels to the river below. I thought that if we could climb into the barrels and hide, they could carry us far enough away from here before the elves notice our disappearance.”

Bilbo waited impatiently for Thorin’s thoughts, but when the dwarf did finally speak again, it was not at all what he had wanted to hear. “Master Baggins… I appreciate the effort, but that plan is much too flawed and risky for us to depend on. We don’t know when the trap door will be opening, and we only have the word of one elf to go off of. Besides, there’s no way of knowing where we’ll end up once we float down the river.”

Defeated, Bilbo sunk down to the ground beside Thorin. He still thought that his plan would work. If they could just manage safe passage to the barrels unseen, he was sure that he and the dwarves would get away from Mirkwood at long last.

“I’ve never been so homesick before.” Bilbo mused aloud. He knew he had no right to complain about homes when the dwarves were the ones fighting to get theirs back, but it didn’t stop him from feeling sorry for himself at this point. “I don’t mean to complain, but I wish more than anything, that I was reclined in my old armchair with a cake and a nice hot cup of tea…”

“Aye,” agreed Thorin, nodding slowly. “Your house was a comfortable one. Nothing compares to the mountains, in my eyes, though I can certainly see the appeal.” He chuckled. “Once this is all over, what say you invite the lot of us back to your hobbit hole to celebrate? It’ll be something to look forward to.”

Smiling to himself, Bilbo nodded. “I like that idea very much. Nothing like a house full of dwarves emptying your pantries, eating you out of house and home.” After a long, but comfortable silence, Bilbo found himself asking the dwarvish heir to sing something. It came as a surprise to them both, the words just sort of having slipped out unchecked, but Thorin obliged anyways.

With his hunger finally sated and exhaustion kicking in, Bilbo began to nod off, despite his best efforts. Thorin’s deep voice was slowly lulling him to sleep as he hummed to himself. Bilbo recognized the melody as the same one he had fallen asleep to the night they had first met. It still sparked the sense of adventure he had felt the first time he had heard it; and he was glad that it still brought out the Tookish side of him.

 

_Far over the misty mountains cold_

_To dungeons deep and caverns old_

_We must away, ere break of day,_

_To find our long-forgotten gold._

 

His head dropped onto the dwarf’s broad chest, and soon both men fell fast asleep, dreaming of gold, dragons, huge feasts, and warm homes filled with friends.

**Author's Note:**

> As we all know, the dwarves (and Bilbo) did eventually go with the barrel riding plan, and ended up in Laketown. So, that's the end of that! How did you enjoy the fic? Good? Bad? OOC? Make sure to leave kudos if you liked it, and as always, even the bad reviews are appreciated, as it helps to hear constructive criticism!
> 
> ~Foxxick


End file.
